


sagittarius

by hojichadust



Series: The Sensations Zodiac [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4013833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hojichadust/pseuds/hojichadust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>title:</b> sagittarius<br/><b>pairing:</b> baeksoo<br/><b>rating:</b> pg-13 for language<br/><b>length:</b> 4.7k<br/><b>a/n:</b> this is a part of <a href="http://hojichadust.livejournal.com/2568.html">The Sensations Zodiac</a> collection, heavily inspired by anthony bourdain’s <i> parts unknown: spain,</i> and a birthday present to lanna. (i would’ve written your first pairing but i’m planning to write everyone’s first pairing last as the big finale of sorts so yeah here’s ur second faves) happy birthday bby girl love you loads</p>
            </blockquote>





	sagittarius

“You never were a good flyer, were you?” Baekhyun said, a light grin on his face.

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo hissed, nails digging into the armrests of his seat. It wasn’t just flying—heights in general tended to have him on edge, and Baekhyun knew this if he learned anything from that time he tried to strand Kyungsoo in his niece’s treehouse as a joke. Baekhyun, as it was, was giving him this look like he was trying to be sympathetic but Kyungsoo highly doubted it was genuine, given the smile. The plane picked up speed and Kyungsoo felt like his organs were being pushed flat inside his body, all the while thinking about how all that stuff about pressurized air cabins was absolute bullshit. 

Baekhyun checked the little storage net attached to the backrest of the seat in front of him. “Huh. No barfbags.”

Kyungsoo would never throw up on a plane. He was on this flight to Tokyo once and someone threw up on the plane and it stunk so bad that it made Kyungsoo sick himself. He would never put himself through that kind of mortification, of making everyone else sick with the stench of his vomit.

Kyungsoo actually had very little interest in Spain. Sure they had spicy food and good fish and beautiful women, but their inhabitants, in his eyes, all had the same exotic, carefree, life-of-the-party spirit to them. Not Kyungsoo’s scene. He was a Tibet kind of guy, hiking up scenic mountains capped in snow and meditating with the monks in the monasteries and so on.

Spain was Baekhyun’s idea. Of course it was. It would be an understatement to say that parties adored Baekhyun. Kyungsoo was somehow the only one immune to his complete idiocy and his cringe-worthy sense of humor that made him so popular with everyone within earshot. And yet, Kyungsoo’s company was what Baekhyun frequented the most. Chanyeol told him once that it was _opposites attraction_ and it nearly made Kyungsoo as nauseous as this plane ride.

“Put it this way, then,” Chanyeol had said after Kyungsoo had stopped dry-retching over the kitchen sink. “You’re a tough nut to crack, for him. He can tell you can’t stand him but he probably wants you to. You might be one of the few people who don’t drool over his feet yet.”

So in short, world domination. Kyungsoo was probably Baekhyun’s greatest challenge ever. If the stupid Byun kid could win over Kyungsoo, then it must be certain that he would win over everybody.

And he must be halfway there, because how else had Kyungsoo ended up on this cramped little contraption, where the air smelled like recycled bad breath and you couldn’t recline your seat far enough to sleep comfortably without smacking the person behind you in the face with your backrest?

“You can sleep on my shoulder,” Baekhyun suggested. 

“No thank you.”

“Come on, don’t look so glum. We’re going to Spain! Have you ever been anywhere like this in your whole life? Show a little appreciation for me taking you along.”

Kyungsoo didn’t respond to this because he was fairly sure such ludicrous statements didn’t merit one. Besides, near-strangling Baekhyun to death after discovering he’d nicked his credit card when he was asleep and bought the plane tickets without asking him had been fair show of his appreciation enough.

 

Kyungsoo will admit he’d been intrigued to learn that Baekhyun had not booked their trip to any of the big-name cities like Barcelona or Madrid. “Everyone knows those places,” Baekhyun had said. “So, big tourist areas. Overpriced food and hotels. Lots of pasty foreigners with big honking cameras like us. Not as much authenticity.”

So, instead, they were at a bed-and-breakfast in a place called Granada, a city rich in beautiful architecture and picturesque scenery. The neighbourhood they inhabited was filled with narrow stone paths and three-story white plaster villas, with gardens that opened up onto the streets. They were barely ten minutes inside of their room when Baekhyun had insisted that they go out and explore the area. The first thing they found was an open terrace claimed by an outdoor bar, throngs of people armed with designer sunglasses as they sat at cheap plastic lawn tables covered in purple tablecloths, enjoying their free tapas.

“You must be kidding.”

“I’m not shitting you. Tapas are free in Spain.” Baekhyun peered at Kyungsoo over his own sunglasses. “Tapas came from Spain. Of course they’re free in Spain. We just have to keep drinking.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

Baekhyun ordered a whole bottle of red wine anyway, and their first tapa comes, tiny snails swimming in a garlic butter sauce.

“Come on, man, tell me you’re not enjoying this,” Baekhyun grinned, leaning back in his chair and spreading his arms out. “Look at this place. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, our food is free—”

“Technically speaking—”

“We’re surrounded by fantastically gorgeous people.”

“You’re going to break your chair,” Kyungsoo said, eyeing him. “See if we get free food then.”

“Okay, so I was thinking,” and just like that Baekhyun was somewhere else, pulling out his Spain travel guide and the handful of tourist brochures he’d swiped earlier and spreading them across every inch of available space between their plate and glasses. If Kyungsoo were to give Baekhyun anything, he’d have to admit that Baekhyun had ambition, a good head to follow through with something once he’d set his mind to it. He didn’t seem put off by Kyungsoo’s sour attitude yet.

“Bullfighting.”

“Fine.”

“I want to try it.”

_“No,”_ Kyungsoo deadpanned.

“Come on, you don’t think it’d be fun? What if we did it with like a little baby bull?”

“I don’t remember mentioning a ‘we’.”

“Okay, if you had to pick between bull riding and bull fighting, doesn’t bullfighting seem safer by comparison?”

“Five hundred bucks says you’re going to get a horn in the nutsack.”

“Okay we’ll decide on the bullfighting tomorrow, I think I read something about this one neighbourhood where they built caves into the hills, if we walk by at the right time we might be able to check out the flamenco jam sessions they have going on in there, although there’s also a good chance that we’re just going to find a bunch of international hippies that apparently like to camp out in those things so maybe we should...”

And so on. Kyungsoo was half-tempted to maim him in some way to stop his blathering, but he settled instead for pouring himself some more wine the whole spiel through, and became glad for its presence at the table. 

“So what do you think?” Baekhyun asked. He wasn’t even winded.

“I think this is some twisted little scheme you’ve cooked up to try and force me to enjoy having you around,” Kyungsoo said as the waitress returned and set down their second tapa with blue-chipped fingernails. Something chunky and white floating in a murky red sauce, accompanied by a basket of thick-cut bread.

Baekhyun gave a little scoff before rolling his eyes. “Alright, you got me.”  
Kyungsoo stared as Baekhyun reached across the table and grasped his hand tightly with the most serious expression Kyungsoo has ever seen grace his face. “I brought you out here to seduce you with this rustic old city to serve as the romantic setting and the wine to help move you along the way.”

“You’re disgusting,” Kyungsoo said, horrified. 

“What, aren’t I pretty enough for you?” Baekhyun tilted his head down so that Kyungsoo could see him batting his eyelashes without his sunglasses in the way. “Come now, tell me you haven’t been fascinated with my wonderfully perfect face at least once.”

The first time Kyungsoo met Baekhyun he’d immediately compared him to an imp. He had thin lips and hands that reminded Kyungsoo of Dracula’s hands from the old black-and-white movies, at first. His face wrinkled up in all the wrong places when he laughed. He was small, loud, uncontrollable, and decidedly dangerous. Also, he was about ten times uglier just because he boasted about how good-looking he was all the time. 

The only problem was that when Baekhyun had paid himself compliments, Kyungsoo had started to notice them. 

Kyungsoo pulled his hand out from Baekhyun’s in disgust. “Get away from me. Let’s go back, I don’t want to be seen in public with you anymore.”

“The sun is still high and shining, my friend. There is much more booze to be ordered.”

“You go ahead and do that, and when you get drunk enough I’ll let you wander off and let Spanish Jesus help you find your way,” Kyungsoo responded, taking up his spoon and dipping it into their second dish. He didn’t know what it was just by looking at it, so he put it in his mouth to taste and instantly choked. “Jesus _fuck_.”

Baekhyun burst out laughing, mouth wide with mirth. “The plate’s still steaming, retard.”

Kyungsoo growled a profanity under his breath, tearing up in discomfort and chewing with his mouth open to let his food cool down. Tripe, he realized. It was cooked much tenderer than in the stews from home, and done deliciously spicy. “It’s because you were distracting me,” Kyungsoo said after he’d swallowed. 

“Yes, I understand I can do that,” Baekhyun replied, in a tone that spun this to be a positive thing, dunking a hunk of bread in the tripe sauce. 

“It stings. I won’t be able to taste anything now.”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Baekhyun asked, completely straight-faced.

Kyungsoo stood up from the table and walked away.

 

Since Kyungsoo was loathe to actually settle for any of the suggestions Baekhyun had brought up earlier that day, the elder announced that he would refrain from forcing Kyungsoo to choose any for that night and decided to spend the rest of their first excursion bar-hopping, aiming to spend the whole day ordering nothing but drinks and surviving off of free tapas until they were ready to head back. Kyungsoo couldn’t say he objected the latter half of that plan. 

The only problem was that after a few glasses Baekhyun resolved to spew out one very long lecture on his reasons for picking this choice destination.

“It’s kind of like Italy, but it’s more _magical_ ,” Baekhyun emphasized, as they sat in a bar in which every square inch of the walls and ceiling were covered in various portraits of Jesus Christ. “This place is so rich in history and culture and religious influences that it feels more like a fairy tale than real life. Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t think being stared at by a disapproving and tortured Jesus from every single angle ever made it into my wildest fantasies,” Kyungsoo said, cringing a little in his seat and retracting his head into his shoulders to avoid smacking his forehead on the rosaries hanging from above. 

“Okay I admit it’s a little uncomfortable, but this is what I’m talking about! Have you ever felt such an intense spiritual presence in your life?”

Kyungsoo made a face, and suddenly there was a laugh to his right. It was the bartender, who made a quick ramble in Spanish before asking _where are you from_ in English.

To Kyungsoo’s ultimate surprise, Baekhyun answered in Spanish. Given, it’s much slower and there was a clear accent compared to the bartender’s speech, but suddenly there they were having a conversation, during which the bartender pointed at Kyungsoo with a wide smile and Kyungsoo’s ears turned red in embarrassment. 

“What’s he saying?” Kyungsoo asked.

“He asked if you didn’t like the beer. I said no, you just didn’t like Jesus looking at you.”

Kyungsoo was mortified. “How could you say that to him?” he nearly yelled. This guy probably prayed to every single one of these Jesus photos before going to bed.

“Relax, he can tell we’re foreigners.”

The bartender said something else.

“He says that Jesus would actually be looking at you with an open heart,” Baekhyun confirmed.

That certainly did not make Kyungsoo feel any better. “Can we go?” he said weakly, now embarrassed beyond enjoyment. “Please?”

Baekhyun blinked at him, expression faltering, and Kyungsoo realized that for the first time he might’ve actually rendered Baekhyun unable to think of some snarky comeback. It gave him conflicted feelings, none of which he decided were positive. He drained the rest of his beer and gave the bartender his best smile and a thank-you in Spanish before getting up and making a quick exit.

“Kyungsoo!” Baekhyun was calling from behind him, but Kyungsoo just quickened his pace, determined to try and lose himself in the crowd as quickly as possible. Unfortunately he could hear Baekhyun’s jogging feet plundering against the sidewalk as he caught up with him.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun said, hurrying to fall in step with him. Kyungsoo refused to look at him. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t think it would bother you so much, I just—”

“Why did you bring me here?” Kyungsoo asked, suddenly exasperated. He felt dizzy, and he thought it might have been a mixture of getting up too fast and having so much alcohol this early in the day. 

They stopped in the middle of the street. Baekhyun looked genuinely repentant, and that was something Kyungsoo had never seen before. Not even when Baekhyun had pulled the shaving-cream prank on him once when Kyungsoo was asleep and Kyungsoo had turned so red with anger his friend Jongin had to drag him away for fear of him popping a blood vessel.

“I thought it’d be good for you,” Baekhyun said. He’s softened his voice, too. “Three years I’ve known you and you’ve never left the city. I just got this feeling sometimes like you’ve been cooped up for too long.”

“You can’t possibly know that about me,” Kyungsoo said lowly.

“I know, I know, I just thought...maybe this trip would be good for that. We have all the same friends and we see each other all the time. Doesn’t it make sense for us to get along too?” Kyungsoo didn’t say anything, so Baekhyun pushed on. “But anyways, I just thought you needed to...breathe. I felt like you weren’t getting enough of anything back home. I don’t know. Does that make any sense?” 

The scary thing was, it kind of did. Kyungsoo didn’t know what to do with this new concerned Baekhyun that had apparently been noticing things Kyungsoo was never aware of, was telling Kyungsoo things he’d been able to sense but never managed to piece together with words himself. It went against everything Kyungsoo knew about Byun Baekhyun, because it implied that Baekhyun cared enough to really want to be his friend.

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say, so he just started walking again, hands in his pockets. Baekhyun followed, watching him but not saying anything. That was another first. This was too much in one day. But then, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but think that Baekhyun’s intentions really did have some sincerity to them. 

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” Kyungsoo said, a little awkwardly.

“Yeah, I took it in college and I brushed up a bit before coming here. I figured if we got ourselves lost you’d berate me about it for the rest of eternity.”

There was some truth in that, and Kyungsoo couldn’t help the slight pull to the corner of his mouth. “So you picked here because the chances of you getting us lost were significantly lower.”

“Well, I mean...” Baekhyun trailed off, but there was a grin on his face. 

Kyungsoo sighed. He thought it was the booze and the strain on his nerves, but he caved in quickly today. “Where are we going next?”

“It’s just a few streets up. You don’t mind standing and eating?”

“Seeing as you’ve already planned our entire itinerary I guess I can’t really mind anything.”

Baekhyun’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit!” he said, and Kyungsoo was suddenly relieved that they would be drinking all day. 

 

True to his word Baekhyun took him to a bull-fighting match the next day. Luckily there was no such thing as “audience participation” at this place. Kyungsoo quickly found that having Baekhyun with him was almost as good as having an informed tour guide with him, and for once he took a real interest in the kinds of things Baekhyun had to say. 

“You know bulls are colourblind, right?” Baekhyun said, as they get comfortable in their seats among a much-hyped crowd. They’re in a small stadium, the arena below made up of red clay mud and, currently, one 640lb black bull and a guy decked up in a bright pink-and-gold outfit. “The whole ‘seeing red makes bulls angry’ thing is bullshit.”

“So what’s the red for?”

“Tradition, I guess. Could also be to cover up how much the big guy is bleeding.”

There was a lot Kyungsoo didn’t know about bullfights, first and foremost that the main objective was to kill the bull without being gutted yourself. “They use the pink cape at first just to get the bull all ready and nasty. Then they get these guys,” Baekhyun pointed at the two men on horseback who entered the ring to join the matador, “to put those tasselled sticks into the shoulder blades. They’re barbed at the end to make them hold. It helps weaken the bull and slow him down.”

“Doesn’t it make them angrier too?” Kyungsoo said warily, seeing how heavily padded the horses were to protect them from the bull’s horns. 

“Yeah. That’s the exciting part. Then, it’s the big showdown.”

The men on horseback exited the ring, and the matador was handed a red cape. Even from here, it was evident how much the bull was bleeding from the wounds of the barbed sticks still protruding from its back. Kyungsoo was equal parts grossed out and intrigued, and wholly mesmerized. He could see now that this was less a competition and more of a dance, almost, despite the crazed screaming around him that gave this crowd resemblance to an arena full of soccer fans. He shot to his feet with everyone else, unable to take his eyes off the sight before him. 

“He’s got a lance made of steel now,” Baekhyun said, and Kyungsoo realized he’d drawn close to his side, his chest brushing against Kyungsoo’s shoulder and his head leaned in to murmur in his ear, close enough that he can feel his breath hot on his earlobe. Baekhyun pressed in even closer as he pointed out over the stadium to show him, and for some reason Kyungsoo didn’t shove him off. “They just used the wooden one before to poke at him some. Now he’s going in for the kill. You see, there, he’s holding the cape lower now, to get the bull to bring its head down, and...”

Suddenly, in one swift movement, almost too quick for the human eye, the blade of steel suddenly disappeared straight in between the bull’s shoulder blades. The animal buckled on its front legs and came crashing down mid-charge, and around them the crowd went nuts. 

Baekhyun leaned away to start cheering, clapping loudly and looking about as impressed as Kyungsoo felt. Kyungsoo could only clap along dumbly, speechless. He was in awe.

“So,” Baekhyun said, once everyone had calmed down some. “Want to see if the restaurant nearby is serving bull stew?”

Kyungsoo gave him an incredulous look. “You are the worst,” he said, shoving him, and Baekhyun couldn’t stop laughing, even as he dragged Kyungsoo all the way to that restaurant and ordered him bull stew.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t expect Baekhyun to take him out to see all the chapels and cathedrals next. “You seem like a silent contemplation kind of guy,” Baekhyun said. “I thought maybe you’d dig this.”

He was, and he hadn’t expected Baekhyun to know this. It was almost getting eerie. 

Unfortunately, the cathedrals were mostly restricted to guided tours conducted in Spanish and English, and while Kyungsoo knew some English well enough it didn’t quite catch up with the historical facts and complexities of the place, not to mention admission prices were high enough without having to purchase an audio tape guide. They decided to forgo the cathedrals for now, look up some other smaller ones to check out later, and settle for going for the Sacromonte area—the hillside caves Baekhyun had been talking about, a Spanish gypsy neighbourhood filled with impromptu flamenco performances. 

“These guys have lived here and kept their pure blood for hundreds of years,” Baekhyun whispered, as they peeked into one lively jam session going on in one of the caves, a group of musicians sitting in a circle of chairs with a woman dancing in front and center. “This is the real shit. You don’t find flamenco as authentic as this anywhere else.”

Of course, eventually one of singers inside noticed them hanging outside like a couple of nosy peepers trying to catch a girl changing between the blinds of her bedroom window, and Kyungsoo was ready to bolt at the first holler spewed out in rapid Spanish. Baekhyun just managed to catch his arm. “They’re inviting us inside,” Baekhyun said, excited, and Kyungsoo couldn’t find appropriate protest before he found himself being dragged inside. 

The gypsies seemed to evaluate their interest as harmless, and were friendly enough as they asked a few questions. Kyungsoo could see Baekhyun was struggling a bit to articulate himself, but his face was a myriad of vivid expressions, eyes sparkling and laughter sheepish. It was yet another side to Baekhyun that Kyungsoo had never noticed before, and he found this one almost endearing.

Drinks were passed to them, some gold liquor over ice in very tall thin glasses, and the gypsies turned their attention back to their music. Most of them were just clapping, snapping their fingers or stamping their feet along to the beat, just as preoccupied as their guests by the main show: the two female dancers, movements fierce and fluid together at once, and the man singing behind them. His voice not one that was particularly strong, but it was filled with emotion and soul like none Kyungsoo had ever witnessed. Within seconds he was head over heels, brimming with a deep respect for these people that went down to the very roots of his soles. 

The first performance ended with a flourish and a cheer, and it was Kyungsoo who clapped the hardest. _“Now I am going to have a drink,”_ the main singer yelled, which Baekhyun translated later, _“because we have a hundred years to live, to sleep, to dream, to do everything.”_

 

It was past two in the morning when they finally made it back to their lodge, and they were appropriately drunk. Kyungsoo thought he’d gone crazy, because he was giggling at everything Baekhyun said like everyone else did. Giggling period was way out of character for himself, so it was cumbersome when he found he couldn’t force himself to stop.

“I wish they had a pool here,” Baekhyun whined. He was stripping in a frenzy, staggering about like a crazy man. “I wanna go swim.”

“You’d start drowning in the shallow end and then I’d have to be the one to save your stupid ass,” Kyungsoo snorted, chucking off his pants. 

“Excuse you! I—” Baekhyun whirled around and swayed on the spot, holding up one finger, “am an excellent swimmer. And a magnificent diver.”

“Belly flops don’t count.”

“Tom Daley would eat my ass. Literally.”

“What, cause he fancies guys? Trust me, no normal sane human being would fancy you regardless.”

Baekhyun seemed to not catch this last part, or was at least ignoring it. He flopped onto the bed next to him with a groan. “I don’t wanna brush my teeth.”

“You are disgusting.”

Baekhyun dismissed this too. Or maybe he just fell asleep, Kyungsoo couldn’t tell. Whatever, he didn’t have the patience or the balance to bother with him any longer anyway. He stumbled into the bathroom and did a sloppy job of brushing his teeth, and nearly swallowed his mouthwash by accident. Obviously he could’ve forgone all this for some much-wanted sleep, but if there was one thing he hated almost as much as Baekhyun, it was waking up to the taste of stale beer. 

Apparently Baekhyun had not fallen asleep, because he lifted his head when Kyungsoo came out of the bathroom, and abruptly stood up. “Hey, can I share your bed with you?”

“What? No.”

“C’mon, please?”

“No.”

“Pleaaaaaaaaaase? I need a snuggle buddy when I'm drunk.”

“Oh my god, get off my bed,” Kyungsoo said, trying to kick Baekhyun off of the mattress, and failing miserably. 

“Don’t be so mean,” Baekhyun slurred, latching onto Kyungsoo’s waist. “Why you always gotta be so mean to me?”

“Okay, okay, chill, just stop crawling on me! And turn off the goddamn lamp.”

“Rude,” Baekhyun grumbled, but he turned off the lamp as he was asked. Kyungsoo settled to one side of the bed, trying to get comfortable, but it was to his extreme dismay that he felt Baekhyun shifting closer and trying to press into him for warmth. It was gross, and probably would’ve been a lot more awkward sober, because they were both without pants and Baekhyun with no shirt either. The thought of Baekhyun’s leg hair touching his bare skin had him ready to hurl.

“You’re comfy,” Baekhyun mumbled, snuggling closer and throwing an arm over Kyungsoo’s stomach to draw him close.

“I hate you.”

Baekhyun giggled stupidly. “I know.”

Kyungsoo sighed, eyes shut now. There was probably no throwing Baekhyun off until tomorrow morning, so he just hugged his pillow and buried his face in it in defeat, praying that Baekhyun had finally run out of energy.

“Hey.”

Kyungsoo forced open his red-rimmed eyes. “What.”

“You don’t hate me.”

It wasn’t a question, but it had still sounded like one, an uncertain lilt to Baekhyun’s voice at the end of it. Kyungsoo blinked. He hadn’t been expecting this, and for a few moments he found he didn’t know what to say. 

Didn’t he hate Baekhyun? He was loud, annoying, obnoxious, everything Kyungsoo detested in another human being. Yet when he thought about this trip, everything they’d done in the past few days, he found he couldn’t conjure up that familiar headache-inducing sensation in his gut. But what difference did it make what country they were in? Wasn’t this the same old Byun idiot from before?

Kyungsoo exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”

There was a long pause that followed this, and for a while it left Kyungsoo to deliberate whether or not Baekhyun had fallen asleep for real this time.

“You know I like you, right?”

Kyungsoo’s heart started beating faster in his chest. It was like yesterday at that outdoor bar, only this time Baekhyun wasn’t using his kidding voice. The younger swallowed. “So you’ve told me.”

“Do you like me?”

At that, Kyungsoo didn’t know what to do other than chew on his lower lip. It was starting to get hot with Baekhyun so close, and the ceiling fan quietly whirring overhead wasn’t much help. Outside a coyote started howling somewhere far away, or maybe it was a wolf, not like Kyungsoo knew the difference.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I like you.”

Baekhyun went silent.

“And...thank you.” Kyungsoo closed his eyes because he could feel his face heating up. “For this trip.”

Baekhyun pulled him in a little closer. “You like it?”

“Yeah.” 

Maybe this was the same Baekhyun. Maybe Kyungsoo had just never bothered noticing before. 

“Better than that time you tried to take me to get mud baths at that five-star hotel,” Kyungsoo added.

“But who doesn’t like mud baths?”

“Baekhyun, just shut up and stop ruining the moment, would you?” 

“Okay.” Baekhyun seemed to slump in relief behind him. “Thank you for coming.”

“Mm.”

“I promise no more Jesus bars,” Baekhyun said, and for some reason it was this, out of everything Baekhyun’s ever said to him, that made Kyungsoo smile the most.

They fell asleep not long after, lulled by the alcohol in their systems, and Kyungsoo briefly thought, just before he went under, that he’d probably end up regretting this spontaneous little confession session in the morning. But then, at the same time, it probably couldn’t hurt much either.


End file.
